Fortress Pip Ash was a marshy pile of mud that rose out of the murky waters of the Delaware River near the approach to Philadelphia. Originally holding a small village colonized by the Swedish, the colony of New Jersey had built a small fortress and town on the island, which was used to justify its claim to half of the Delaware Bay when it applied for statehood in 1778. The newly minted supreme court upheld New Jersey's claim to the waterway due to the presence of Fortress Pip ash. Two hundred years later the island was home to nearly eight thousand residents living in tightly packed row houses on tight historic cobbled streets. The island was mostly self-sufficient, though most residents had a car in the parking garage near the ferry for use off the island. Most people in Pip Ash made their living either serving the tourist industry or working as fishermen. There was also a small but growing industry of technicians working on large wind farms that dominated the Delaware Bay. The original fortress is still the center of town, surrounded by a moat and holding the cities offices, police department, and other important facilities. A ceremonial unit of soldiers remains on the island mostly for recruiting duty, residing in the fortress. 

Dean Paul was walking home from school alone. While it was hot on paper, the location of Pip Ash meant that a cool breeze always whipped by the narrow streets and alleyways of the city. Dean sighed as he walked along the cobbled streets, passing by the other students who were with their friends. He figured that he would have been able to overcome his social anxiety after high school, though now that he was in college, he was even more isolated. There was just something off about him, and he knew it. He struggled to make friends of any kind, and the people he usually did get close to typically would stop talking to him after a while. He planned on getting his degree in mechanical engineering so that he could work at the wind farm, though honestly the struggles of school and lack of stability were taking its toll on Dean's GPA. 

He wasn't the most unattractive person to ever cross Pea Patch, but he wasn't exactly stunning either. His hair was somewhat receding already despite being just 24 years old. He wasn't obese, but certainly he had a bit of a gut on him and could stand to work out more often. No, it was his mannerisms more than his looks that doomed Dean to a life of loneliness. Having no idea how to talk to people after being neglected by his own family, his early life consisted of repeated social blunders that ended up with the whole town thinking him to be some kind of freak. Deep down inside, Dean himself felt he was a freak. As early as high school he had started learning about his own sexuality. Some people were into boobs, some ass, Dean was into crushing, brutal and gory crushing of other humans shrunk to tiny size. Of course, such a thing was impossible, but regardless Dean thought himself as a monster, and never dared tell anyone of his obsession. Dean's social frustration and anxiety were made even worse because there was simply no outlet for him, at best there were some basic Youtube videos that would probably be deleted as quickly as they popped up or a handful of stories on a website that were updated infrequently. 

Dean continued towards the docks, it was no use going home at this time of day, he hated seeing his stepfather and his mother would be too busy drinking to talk to him. Dean would do what he always did to pass the time, magnet fishing. There were a large number of wrecks in the bay, some dating as far back as the second world war. Dean made short pocket change by taking his boat out into the water and dragging a heavy magnet along the mud for anything of value. The docks weren't too busy as most of the boats had gone out for the day and wouldn't be back until the late evening, giving Dean the chance to sail off into safer waters away from the unwieldy fishing boats. 

A small aluminum bodied dinghy bobbed in the water waiting for Dean to get in. He tossed in his backpack, which had a small snorkeling kit and flippers. Undoing the line holding the boat to shore, Dean gave the cord on the engine a quick tug. The motor sputtered shortly before humming to life, smoke billowing out of the overtaxed and ancient engine as Dean pulled out of the harbor into relatively open water about a hundred meters from shore, not far from where the old military dock on the rear of the fortress used to be. This was his spot, and almost everyone in town knew it. There wasn't a whole lot to be found here and the authorities never gave him any trouble anyway as long as he steered clear of the cables that lined the bottom of the bay. While he had always hoped that he would find something interesting like a helmet or perhaps even a rocket, typically the days catch would consist of a few rusted bolts or a small tin if he was lucky. 

A large steel cased magnet was tossed overboard with a thick chain attached. The magnet rested on a small sled that make it easier for Dean to drag it around. The chain unwrapped a few feet before striking the muddy bottom, Dean left a few feet of slack so that it would trail well behind him as he pulled forward slowly with the motor. He paired his phone with a small speaker he brought onboard, playing a podcast to pass the time as he lazily patrolled with his weighted magnet in tow, careful to not veer too far into the shipping lane, which was very deep. While he used to check on the magnet nearly every hour, Dean knew better than that now. If he found anything of value it would stick to the magnet, besides it was heavy and pulling it back up was exhausting. As the sun started to set inland behind him, Dean prepared to pull up his chain and head back to the docks. Before he could do so, however, the chain pulled taut and then tugged at the boat, nearly throwing Dean over the bow into the water. Straightening his glasses, Dean walked over to the chain and gave it a tug, though it remained obviously stuck on something heavy. Dean was close to the drop-off, losing the weight entirely would have been a disaster though at least it looks like whatever it is caught on is near the surface. Excited for his first real catch in nearly three years of magnet fishing, Dean unbuttoned his tan shirt and tossed his hat to the floor of the boat. While not terribly familiar with snorkeling, Dean felt prepared enough with the short class he watched online a year ago and threw on his mask and tube. Before jumping over, Dean remembered to stretch the headlight band over his head, it would be dark down there. 

The water was cold... extremely cold. Despite being nearly June, the water of the Delaware was still very cold. The chill nearly took the breath out of Deans mouth as he threw himself into the water, careful not to dive in extremely fast so as to not get stuck in the mud. Flipping on his light, Dean entered the darkness, following the chain down at least twelve feet. Down here he could still see the light above somewhat, but silt and mud had made the water in front of him very dark, the light penetrating like a sword into the darkness and yet still only illuminating about an arm's length away from his face. Through the brownish water the beam of light on Dean's head cut a shaft of visibility down the chain where it ended at the magnet sled. The sled rested on a piece of flat metal, extending into the mud. Already hurting for air but interested, Dean went just a little deeper, when he saw that the sled was caught on what appeared to be the handle to a door. Feeling the slimy and algae covered metal, Dean let go of the chain and swam towards the edge of the metal, finding that it was right at the edge of the drop off into deeper waters. Not wanting to lose more air, Dean started swimming to the surface, reaching the top and gasping. 

Taking a moment to get his breath, Dean once again plunged under the surface, this time swimming straight towards the door to get a closer look at it. Through the darkness the door had appeared so fast that he nearly swam into it, he started scratching at the mud and debris on it, which clouded the area even more. Still, shining his light directly on the handle, he could clearly make out "US ARMY". Already starting to burn for air, Dean tugged at the handle, the heavy door lurching open revealing a pitch-black pit that ran deeper into the depths of the channel. Looking inside before the silt clouded it, Dean could see that this was an extended shipping container, which ran at least another forty feet. Currently it was half buried in the mud, crushed on the one side, and leaning at a nearly 50-degree angle on the edge of a cliff that ran into the middle channel of the bay. The interior looked mostly empty, but in the middle of the container held by chains was what appeared to be a single crate. Dean could wait no longer, and pushed off the metal, swimming for the surface for air. Breaching the water, Dean gasped for air and grabbed the nearby chain extending to his tiny boat, his head panged with pain as he deprived himself of oxygen. 

Though the sun had nearly set, and clouds were rolling in, Dean just couldn't wait for his prize to be washed away in some current or be claimed by someone else. He stood onboard his boat, which now rocked harder as the wind picked up with the incoming clouds. Dean jumped and dived feet first into the water, piercing it like a bullet where he figured the container would be. Thankfully not just lawn-darting himself into the muddy bottom, Dean passed right through the open door, a blanket of silt and mud surrounding him as he entered and spreading out to fill the room. Now in the container, Dean could only see directly in front of him, the minimal light from the sun no longer present. He looked for the box but instead just saw more of the silty darkness that had engulfed him earlier. He tried to get his bearings, but up was down and down was up. Dean twisted and turned as he felt the oxygen in his lungs deplete. He thrashed until he found a chain, one that was holding the box in the center of the container. He tugged on it, his chest swelling as he demanded air. Instead of heading back up, Dean pulled himself towards the crate and gave it a tug, the thing cracking open with ease after being underwater for who knows how long. Through the encompassing darkness Dean could see a metallic object slip out of the box towards the bottom of the container. Panicking, Dean rushed towards it to grab it, himself getting caught on the chain as he did so. He did manage to get his hands on the metal, though with his trashing he bumped his head into the crate. 

The pain of hitting his head was nothing compared to the panic of seeing the flashlight slip off its band towards the bottom of the container. Dean rushed forward again, ignoring the pain in his lungs, it was only a few feet deeper right? He lunged forward, kicking up more silt as the beam of light faded. Now Dean was left alone in the dark, the distant light of his headband shutting off entirely as it went beyond its rated depth. Still holding the metallic object, Dean started to swim towards the surface, his lungs nearly bursting as he had spent almost a full minute underwater. Instead, Dean smacked headfirst into the side of the container, though in his confused state he didn't recognize that he wasn't going up. In a panic and getting more and more confused, Dean thrashed around in the cloudy darkness of the container pressing against the walls. Dean swam along the wall in front of him, reaching what he thought must be the door of the container, only for a deeper kind of darkness to close in on him as he reached for the sky. 

Dean’s head was throbbing, it felt like he was waking up after a long night of drinking, not that he drank much to be too familiar with a hangover. As he opened his eyes he saw that he was in a hospital room, the sterile white walls accentuated by a blue line painted over the midsection of the wall. Out the window he could see the harbor, a few boats bringing in their daily catch of scallops and White Perch. This was Charles L'Enfant Hospital, a small building near the port used to provide basic medical care to the islanders as well as holding more serious patients while waiting to be transported to the mainland. The room Dean was in was a small holding room, likely left open due to the lack of any serious cases, otherwise he’d surely be downstairs in the main ward.

Dean was staring out at the port as he heard the door open and close behind him. He turned to see Chris Gantry. He stood fairly tall, at nearly 6’2. He was the complete opposite of Dean, both charming and athletic; he had a very large friend group. The two weren’t exactly friends, though Chris at least knew Dean by name.

“That was pretty close you know, you shouldn’t go diving into crates and confined places like that, you could have been killed.”

Dean just stared back, he didn’t care much to be lectured right now, even if he had just saved his life. He tried to shut him up with an insincere “Yeah, I know.” 

“I was out on the water too, just coming back in from the mainland when I saw you head into the water.” 

Chris approached, something wrapped in cloth in his hands.

“I didn’t think anything of it until the first minute had gone by. I knew you were never a very good swimmer, so I realized that you were in trouble and jumped in after you. I’m sure everyone on the ferry thought I was crazy” 

Chris gave an awkward laugh, Dean returned it with a forced smile.

“Anyway, I managed to hold onto this, it was in your hand when I found you. I guess it’s yours, no idea what it could be though.”

Chris opened the bundle to show a metal sphere, the same object that Dean had reached for underwater. It was a rusty ball of sorts, though the original metal could still be seen underneath. 

Chris twisted it a bit, it did appear to move slightly

“Hmm, I guess it opens?”

As he gave it another hard twist a thick POP emanated from the sphere, which Chris dropped as a small stream of blood left his hand. 

“Ah, it poked me, shit .I don’t want to have to deal with a tetanus shot rig-” Chris’s words slurred and then he keeled over. Before Dean could call for help, he vanished.
 

How could this be? Dean had looked blankly at the sphere. Was he seeing things? Did he imagine Chris being in the room? Dean leaned in to grab the sphere, hanging out of the bed and supporting himself with one arm as the other reached out to grab the ball. Then he saw it, he saw something small moving near the sphere. A bug? Dean leaned in closer and to his horror he saw him, Chris. He couldn’t be much larger than a millimeter in height, the size of most ants. 

Dean just stared at the now diminutive Chris in front of him. He just saved him, sure, but now he was the size of an ant in front of him. While he had kept this from almost everyone that he knew, he had a size kink. He frequently trawled the internet for whatever size related material he could find. Usually it was just some corny video of a woman in her underwear stepping on some poorly green screened men. They never quite scratched the itch, the horror and scale of it all that he imagined. Some videos got close, but they never could capture exactly what Dean craved. Now in front of him he had what he wanted, but what sort of monster would he be if he used Chris for his own gain. He had just saved him after all. 

Before Dean could think much more on it, the door opened again. 

“Hey! I’m sorry I’m so late, I ran straight over as soon as I heard about what happened.” 

It was Victoria, Dean’s only real friend. Their relationship was hard to describe. She claimed to have seen him as a friend, but Dean was convinced that he was more or less just in her life because she felt bad for him rather than out of any desire to truly be friends. She was a medical student living on the mainland, though she visited often and they both went to college together. They texted often, though sometimes Dean wished that they could hang out or be closer. She was perhaps the only person in his life that he was really open with.

Victoria was average in height, perhaps 5’6. She had shoulder length brown hair that she typically kept in a bun, though today she left it loose. She wore a set of metal framed glasses that covered her hazel eyes that seemed to glow with a light orange-brown. She was from Colombia, but moved to the US when she was young. Her olive skin was well taken care of and was clear of any blemishes. Today she wore a red dress with a denim jacket. She had on a pair of leather flip flops that were clearly well worn. Dean avoided staring. 

“Hey don’t worry about that, I’ll get it for you.” Victoria walked over to the sphere, grabbing it and quickly placing it on the end table before Dean could stop her. She looked down at the floor instinctively as she turned around. Her feet landed near, but not on Chris. He watched as he appeared to be jumping up and down, waving for help. Above him, Victoria was none the wiser as her foot approached the tiny speck. 

Down below, Chris was living a nightmare. First he blacked out, whatever ball it was the he had picked up poked him and left a small cut on his hand. He awoke shortly after to find that he was tiny, like really tiny. He looked up to see Dean staring at him, and while he screamed for help, he got no response. Either he couldn’t hear him or he was being ignored. Maybe Dean was in just as much shock? Whatever the case, he needed to be rescued and turned back to normal. His thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. He couldn’t see who it was from his position as he was on the floor on the opposite side of the bed as the door. 

“Hey! I’m sorry I’m so late, I ran straight over as soon as I heard about what happened.” 

He recognized that voice. He couldn’t ponder it though, as his mind and heart was racing. Why wasn’t Dean picking him up? He was getting back into bed actually, but still keeping his eyes locked on him. 

boom

Boom

BOOM

The steps of the giant approaching him sounded like distant explosions getting closer and closer. As the colossus crossed over to his side of the room he could make out her details. Though she was now the size of the tallest skyscrapers from his perspective, he could still make out Victoria anywhere. They shared a few classes together and she sometimes helped him with biology homework. He waved his arms and jumped.

“Hey, I’m down here. Victoria!!”

But she couldn’t hear him. Her foot slammed down next to him, the meaty flesh settling on the leather flip flop as she stood now directly over him. Chris was in a panic, the impact dropping him to the ground as she started crouching to pick up the sphere. He stared up as her body and dress lowered. He had a view right to her underwear but he was anything but pervy right now, given the circumstances. It appeared as if the sky itself was falling on him, though it stopped short of crushing him as she fully crouched to grab the sphere. Her heels raised off the flip flops as she did so and he could see her soles rising into the air. The light scent of her feet wafted over him. 

“Ah, please Victoria, please!” He begged to an uncaring mass of flesh and bone. As quickly as she lowered herself, she raised back into the air, leaving Chris between her ginormous feet. 

Dean had to break himself out of his trance, he couldn’t be seen just staring at Victoria’s feet. She turned around after placing the sphere on the table, facing him. 

“I’m sure you’re tired, I just wanted to check in on you. The doctor said you were out for a while, I do hope that everything will be alright” 

Dean made idle small talk with Victoria, though he was really giving most of his thought to the ant between her feet. He occasionally glanced down, trying not to make it obvious. He knew that she had caught him looking more than a few times just now, but perhaps she’d just attribute it to him being a little loopy from being out for so long.

Back on the floor, Chris could barely hear the giants. Their loud and booming voices were so distorted that it just sounded more like thunder to him than anything else. He needed to get Victoria’s attention, Dean must have been too out of it to notice him. She stood above him, occasionally shuffling her feet, each minor movement sent him back on his knees. The worst came as one of her feet slid out of the flip flop. Chris watched as the shaking continued, keeping him on the ground and immobile. Her foot slammed around him repeatedly as she tapped her foot, slid it back and forth, and moved it around him. His luck finally ran out as he saw her tanned sole appear over him, replacing the sky as the wrinkled flesh collapsed on him.

“Wai-”

Chris started to yell as the mass of flesh descended on him. 

BOOM

He was caught under the ball of her foot. The hot flesh compressing him like an elephant on a grape. The air left his body and his lungs were crushed quickly. Victoria probably felt something, it was a smooth tiled floor, but she probably just thought he was some dirt or lint on the floor and gave him no thought as she continued her conversation with Dean. As he was seeing stars the weight let off him. He painfully filled his lungs up, though the air now stunk of her feet, the overwhelming smell of her sweat filling his nostrils. He gave a muffled cry, the foot raised slightly off the ground but not enough for him to move away. It suddenly lowered with more force again, snapping his leg and a few rips as it compressed him. The gigantic foot started sweeping back and forth, grinding him into the floor like a cigarette bud, leaving streaks of blood as the dust on the floor dug into his flesh like a wall of daggers.

Dean wasn’t responding anymore, instead just focused on her foot and giving half hearted responses. Victoria must have noticed, because she grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Hey, I can tell you’re really out of it right now, I’ll give you some time to rest and instead I’ll stop by later okay?”

Dean nodded as she leaned in to give him a hug. She leaned in her foot pressed against the floor hard, smashing poor Chris under the ball of her foot once again. His muffled screams were drowned out by the cracking and crunching of his bones. The gigantic foot pulverized him, compressing him into the floor with the force of a power hammer. As she let go of Dean, Victoria slipped her sandals back on. She didn’t realize that Chris was still alive, if only just barely. He gave a pained and weak whine as he saw the floor get farther away before the destination of her flip flop appeared and got closer and closer. Her foot settled into the worn leather, trapping Chris and dooming him to a horrid fate. Victoria began walking to the door, each step reducing Chris more and more as he sank into the dirty insole of the flip flop. While he was still alive, it didn’t matter, she wouldn’t be able to notice some tiny bug being mashed into grime in her shoe. 

Victoria left hoping that Dean would recover soon. Yes it was quite weird that he stared at her foot for a bit, but she figured that he must have just been a little out of it. She knew that he was attracted to her though honestly she had no interest in him at all beyond just being a friend at arms length away. 

Dean was speechless, he just saw his literal savior get mauled and crushed under Victoria, a woman that he had a crush on himself. He just sat there and watched a man be brutally killed and didn’t do anything to stop it. He wasn’t a murderer though, right? I mean he did nothing but what was he supposed to do? One thing was certain though, what he just saw excited him. He was turned on, in fact he wished that he was the one tiny being crushed by Victoria right now. Where Chris once stood was now just a small amount of blood, his body likely being pulverized into an unrecognizable paste right now.

Dean looked over at the sphere, if whatever was in it could shrink people, he’d finally be able to live out his fantasy, whatever the costs.